


Laughter (At My Expense)

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Andrew is a good friend, Angst, Anxiety, For the most part though this can be seen as mainly platonic, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Doubt, Suspense, The Ryan slash Shane tag is in there because it'll lean on that for the Hurt n Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 13:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20174839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the hands of those around him were cameras, their treacherous red indicating that they were recording....Ryan's pulling his hair out trying to find where the fuck Shane went in the middle of editing. Suddenly, though, he wishes he never had.





	Laughter (At My Expense)

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a dash cuz really, I have no plot for all this. Kinda just made it up along the way. Really, it started when I was on Tumblr and I was aboutta shitpost that Shane had the ideal height and appearance to behave like a cryptid and scare the ever loving shit out of Ryan before I thought, yknow what, fuck it. It's been a long ass time since I've written fic, I have yet to write for this fandom, and I need a creative outlet cause I'm stressed and school is starting soon. Why not? And then this abomination was born. Really, it didn't go how I was originally planning, but it went in a good direction I guess. This is also my first time writing horror and I suck at writing practically any emotion anyways so it might be very technical up until certain points. Sorry. Hope yall enjoy, though. Again, this can be viewed as either platonic or romantic. Either works. I just want some angst and to broaden my horizon a bit, spice up my creative reaches and all that stuff. Again, enjoy/hope you enjoyed.
> 
> PS It's unbeta'd, sorry, I was rushing to get it all out while I could and really, I should be finishing my AP work rn cause I have school in four days.
> 
> ALSO this is loosely based on a horror story I read online a long ass time ago.
> 
> 8/24/19 the edit was cuz i remembered smthn,,, Ryan dropped his phone in the basement,,, and then he had it with him at home,,, andrew, messenger boi

“Has anyone seen Shane?” Ryan peered into the rooms on the east end of the office, disappointed, again, to not catch sight of any looming giants.

All heads turned to him and gave nonchalant shakes. He sighed. 

From down the corner of the room, Jen walked up to him followed by Steven, who was chomping down on a breakfast burrito (even though it was the unholy afternoon that summer in LA cursed with sweltering heat. Bless the creator of air-conditioning, jesus fucking christ). As far as he could tell, they were likely chatting it up (procrastinating) when he walked in.

“Can’t find Shane?” Steven inquired, rather dumbly, around the chewing of his lunch (?). Appropriately, Ryan pinned him down with a glare that elicited a choked laugh from him.

“Maybe you skimmed over him?” Jen proposed.

“Well, I can’t imagine I did- dude’s hard to miss.”

“Where have you checked?”

Ryan sighed again. “Everywhere, Jen,” he spat out bitterly. They had edits to discuss and he just-! Up and vanished on him! “His stuff’s still over at our desk so I’m positive he hasn’t left yet.”

Steven, swallowing down more of his burrito, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe he’s out to lunch? He didn’t text you or leave a note or anything to say he was going?”

Ryan contemplated this. It was possible, yeah, and it wouldn’t be a first. In their four years of knowing each other, Shane _ has _had moments where he disappeared to lunch without Ryan and came back with food for him. It was plausible.

But Ryan was stubborn. He was already overreacting a bit, why not shoot for the whole nine yards if impending embarrassment had any say in his decisions?

“Probably,” he muttered. “I’m still gonna look around, though, probably check the conference rooms. Or the basement.” Their eyes darted to one another before they all scrunched up their faces a tad bit with displeasure. 

No one liked going to the basement. It’s not that there was anything bad to the place, it was just- plain. Really unnerving. No one had their office down there; it was just a flight of stairs from their floor down void hallway and a small, nearly claustrophobic space of office machines and a table off in the corner, the light occasionally flickering as if to taunt visitors with the dark (afterall, if the light went out when someone was down there, they wouldn’t have anything to guide them back to the stairs). If anything, the silence and blandness of the location made it… eerie. No one visited unless they really had to. 

If Shane was down there, though, he had no choice but to check for him. Ryan let out a resigned sigh and prayed to whatever fucking gods were listening that he just find Shane in, like, the other spare rooms of the office or something.

For good measure, he sent off (yet another) text to Shane demanding that he get back to him. Nervously, though, he noted the previous “Delivered” at the bottom of his last string of messages, mocking his panic. Ryan huffed and went on his way.

===

He wasn’t anywhere, and he still had yet to see his messages. Ryan grumbled. Thirty minutes of scouring the office and he still couldn’t find the squatch despite turning up in every wing, hall, breakroom, and even supply closets like his friend was indecent enough to have sloppy makeouts in a room full of cleaning tools- but he was nowhere. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting worried now, overwhelming his earlier irritation. He considered his last option with a strong gulp.

The basement.

Heading back to the break room that had the basement door, Ryan’s heart beat erratically. Seriously, what was he even worried about? It was just a fucking basement with a faulty light in his workplace. He was safe here-

And yet, his anxiety was spiking like he was on location. 

Slowly, almost dramatically, he twisted the knob and peered down the-

“Oh fuck no! Fuuuuuuuuck! Are you shitting me, dude?” Ryan exclaimed, stomach falling through the floor.

A passing coworker- Daysha- came up behind him with curiosity. “What’s up, dude? Are you goi- Oh fuck no,” she agreed, sounding put out at the sight of the darkened hall: the lights had gone out down there. “If you’re gonna be looking for Shane, I doubt he’s down there, buddy,” she said, turning to him.

“He’s not anywhere else, though, and he’s not answering my texts! What if he was down there when the lights went out! Maybe he got out his phone and couldn’t get the flashlight open a-and then he dropped it and is stuck down there! What if-”

Daysha cut Ryan off with a look, well acquainted with Ryan’s rambling in the worst of times. “Well,” she brushed some imaginary lint off the back of her shoulder, perhaps a bit miffed that Ryan was ignoring all logic, as usual. “Since you’re so down to go down there, good luck. It isn’t another one of your supernatural episodes, but try getting into the spirit, Ryan. Don’t be a dumbass and bring a flashlight,” she broke a bit, giggling at her own display of sternness before walking off to let him go down.

And now faced with the prospect of possible ghosts, Ryan was made even more nervous. He stared back down the steps and the darkness seemed to stare back. A bit cowardly, he yelled down, “Shane?”

After a few seconds with no response, Ryan fished his phone out of his pocket, turning on the flashlight available and cautiously descending the (unnecessary, huge amount of) steps that lead into the hall devoid of doors. Once down, he looked ahead where the bright circle of his light dimly illuminated the white wall of the basement room.

Cautiously- perhaps with more caution than was necessary, really- he shuffled towards the end of the hall, nerves on fire as he had yet to spot any sign of life in the ring of light that his cellphone light had to offer. 

Once there, feeling foolish as he could only braved himself to stick his head out of the hall, he observed the darkness. Then, hesitantly, he brought up his light to span the room, going from the left corner and making his way, right. Still, there was nothi-

“Shane!” Ryan yelled excitedly when his eyes landed on the too-tall Chicago born man adorning his denim jacket of this morning. Before he could dart towards him in anger, though, Ryan stopped himself, breath caught in his throat.

The man looked… off, for lack of a better word. His back was to Ryan, though, so he couldn’t fathom where this nervousness was coming from. Not to mention, he didn’t respond when his name was called out, like he didn’t hear Ryan or see his light engulfing him.

“Shane?” Ryan whispered, worried but also a tad bit… scared. For his friend or himself, he didn’t know. He wasn’t moving? Why wasn’t he moving? Shane’s stillness unnerved Ryan.

Ryan jumped slightly, then, when Shane did start moving without warning. Picking up his right leg and placing it back down, unnaturally balanced. Repeating, as if to test an aching joint and then taking a step forward and then stepping back with his back still turned to Ryan… like he was trying to get used to… moving… And then he stopped entirely, once again unmoving.

Ryan’s heartbeat was skyrocketing now, the sound of blood rushing through his ears steadily becoming more prominent. His hand shook as he continued to hold it up to Shane but he felt like if he moved it any more drastically or if he uttered any other sound, he’d break something sacred in the room.

Why was Shane acting so weird? Has he been down here the whole time? Why isn’t he responding? Why was he so scared of his friend? Why didn’t Shane come back up? He felt like he was on fire, fear shriveling his lungs through his lips parted with shock.

Ryan swallowed again and tentatively called out one more time.

“Shane?”

.

.

.

.

His head moved. Very slightly, he turned his ear to Ryan in a mechanical motion- buffering and looking like he was ticking if anything. Past that, he didn’t move any and Ryan continued to look on in confused horror.

.

.

.

.

And then Shane suddenly turned around and Ryan let out a small shriek before Shane began running towards him unnaturally, his legs being picked up and shoved haphazardly forward erratically, arms limp at his sides like- like he didn’t know how to run and, holy shit, Ryan was fucking sprinting back towards the steps, light flailing wildly across the walls whilst his scream echoed in the darkness.

Seeing the stairs before him, he risked a glance and his light caught the tail end of the long legs that were still running unnaturally- inhumanely and horrifyingly close when Ryan was straight up sprinting and this- Was this even his frie-

Ryan yelped as he failed to catch the first step of the stairs, bracing himself as he tripped and fell into the carpeted corners. In his panic, his phone (his lightsource, his _ fucking _lightsource!!!) slipped through his fingers but the image of the catching up legs flashed into his mind, horrifying him as he began, instead, to crawl up the stairs in a blind panic, bruising his knees and wrists as he made his way up panting like he’d ran a fucking marathon because he was so fucking scared, god fucking help him he was so fucking scared, oh god, what if that thing was still behind him, what would it do when it caught up, why did it look like Shane, did someone hear him scream, someone fucking help him, oh god someone fucking-

His hand made contact with the flat platform preceding the stairs and he lunged onto it from his crawling position, jumping for the doorknob and towards freedo-

Ryan, screamed a desperate scream as he jiggled the knob, throwing his full weight at the door to find that it wouldn’t open, it wouldn’t fucking open, oh god, SOMEONE HELP HIM THE DOOR WON’T FUCKING OPEN IT’S NOT OPENING OH GOD OH GOD NO NO PLEASE NO-

Giant hands from the darkness gripped his shoulders and Ryan screamed bloody murder, throwing himself at the door again and shutting his eyes tightly as tears pricked the corners because he was going to fucking die, he was going to die here in this fucking horrific basement not knowing where his fucking best friend was, not able to say goodbye to the fucking people he loved, no, he was going to die he was going to die HE WAS GOING TO DIE SOMEONE HELP HIM PLEASE GOD HE WAS GOING TO DIE HE WAS-

The door behind him opened and, Ryan, leaning entirely against it, gasped and fell back, sobbing with relief as the light hit his eyes and-

Laughter rung out all around him when he finally settled graciously on the floor of the break room, tears and sweat intermingling on his face, eyes wide with fear, heart racing, and fear… receding… when he heard even the familiar chuckle of his best friend behind him…

Ryan looked up from his spot on the floor to the faces of many coworkers scattered around him, some laughing unabashed and others trying to hide it behind their fists, a couple actually crying from their mirth. Behind him, at the door, several more stood leaning against it and in the basement, Shane, also trying to hide his giggles and failing miserably.

In the hands of those around him were cameras, their treacherous red indicating that they were recording, and strapped to Shane’s sternum was… a compact night vision camera…

It was

.

.

.

A video

.

.

.

.

.

A fucking

.

.

.

Video

.

.

.

Ryan felt betrayed. A voice in his head whispered he had no right to, that it was just all in good fun and there needn’t be any feelings of betrayal, but Ryan felt betrayed. Laughed at his expense and exploited to the highest mother_ fucking _ order.

He didn’t know if the squeezing sensation in his lungs anymore was embarrassment or resentment. Maybe both, but as he stared up into the camera manned by an intern, aimed straight at him, he couldn’t stand it, peoples’ laughter still ringing freshly in his ears as they pointed or tried to not make themselves obvious. 

(Distantly, he spotted a few genuinely concerned faces of coworkers who look like they thought that maybe, just maybe, this had gone a bit too far.)

Without any fanfare, Ryan rushed to his feet, almost stumbling, and made a beeline towards the entrance of the break room, unfeeling but feeling far too much at the same time. A little bit of the laughter behind him settled into confused silence and someone’s hand landed on his shoulder as he passed them, saying, “Hey, Ryan, dude-”

He fucking lost it.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!” he bellowed with too much hurt in his voice- more than he thought he could possibly muster, and shocked the room into silence as he shoved the hand off his shoulder, walking away faster with his fists clenched at his side. He couldn’t let people see the tears that were genuinely falling from his face now, pushed with the sheer, unadulterated rage that was rushing through his head, through his veins-

(Distantly, as he turned the corner, he heard Sara’s voice addressing everyone. “I told you all that this wasn’t gonna be a good idea.” Distantly, he remembers that he hadn’t once seen her face contort with laughter at his expense, instead darting around the room with disapproval when Ryan was still floored.)

His hands flew to his face as he rushed passed the offices. He ignored the confused calls of his name and the faint sound of rushing footsteps trailing after him as he ran to a single-person bathroom, slamming into Andrew who was exiting. 

(Before he looked away, ashamed and face red with tears, Ryan saw the flash of genuine concern followed up by understanding that adorned his friend’s face.)

Once inside, Ryan pushed his back against the door and sat in a fetal position against it, hands still to his face and throat caught as he refused to let out any semblance of a sob.

(Outside the door, he heard someone frantically asking Andrew if he’d seen him, Andrew dully replying “no” and, with a lilt of biting sarcasm in his voice, that he was “ecstatic to watch Ryan’s jumps and guffaws of joy at their prank when the video came out.”)

It went silent before Ryan heard a slightly muffled, unidentifiable voice robotically mutter a “Fuck you, Andrew” before a single pair of footsteps stomped away. After, Ryan heard a few knocks on the bathroom door and Andrew’s voice yelled through, “Hey, if you’re done in there, I’d like to have a go soon,” before he heard a softer spoken, “He’s gone, Ryan. I’m sorry,” and more departing steps.

Face still in his hands, Ryan sat there for what felt like eternity- in resentment, in embarrassment, in shame, and in gratitude- before he stood up to the sink, letting his hands drop and turning on the water to wash away the snot, tears, and sweat that’s accumulated on his visage.

When he looked up into the mirror, he winced at his reddened, puffy eyes and flushed cheeks before washing it again, calming down.

He knew it was just a prank. A simple video, that’s all it fucking was, there wasn’t any need to get so worked up about it, but- god-

And suddenly, he was crying all over again, a high pitched sob escaping his lips that sounded pathetic because that’s all he fucking was, a fucking twenty-seven year old adult who just couldn’t take a fucking joke, he-

Another knock at the door in the same pattern that Andrew had knocked earlier.

Washing his face one more time and then wiping away the water with his t-shirt, Ryan opened the door. There stood Andrew with a cup of coffee from the dainty albeit wonderful shop across the street in his left hand and, in his right, a heavy-looking bag branded with In-N-Out. On his back was Ryan’s backpack, seemingly filled with Ryan’s daily items and his phone stuffed haphazardly into the frontmost pocket, miraculously uncracked.

(Faintly, Ryan was ashamed that his coworker had to see him like this and comfort him.)

He handed off the food items to Ryan and passed his bag back to the rightful owner before patting Ryan’s shoulder. 

“Make your escape while you can, Bergara,” he joked lightly, taking notes from Shane on how to calm Ryan down, it seemed. "Your guy’s on the second floor looking for you right now and most of the north wing is empty. Go home, rest up. I already phoned covering you so you’re good to leave for a few days.”

Ryan was gonna send him a fucking giftbasket when this was over but for now, he nodded at Andrew and rushed out, eyes still puffy and sniffling a bit. At his car, he threw his bag into the passenger seat and quickly buckled up, starting the vehicle and backing out from underneath the pine tree, thanking the gods that he parked in the row closest to the actual building.

Just at the stop sign veering off onto the road, though, he heard a call for his name.

“RYAN!!! WAIT!!!” 

Ryan’s head snapped up to Shane, poised by the office entrance and the door closing behind him, still. Glancing, Ryan saw an opening in traffic and rushed out before Shane could stop him.

===

When he finally got home, he wondered heavily if he’d overreacted to the situation out of humiliation, wondered if he’d just fucked up and that maybe he was the one who went too far, leaving when he could’ve just confronted everyone instead of crying like a fucking baby.

Sitting on his couch, spacing out as “Mission Impossible : Fallout” continued to play on his TV, he ignored the continuous ping of notifications on his phone, texts from multiple people, but mostly Shane, firing off one after the other.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a dash cuz really, I have no plot for all this. Kinda just made it up along the way. Really, it started when I was on Tumblr and I was aboutta shitpost that Shane had the ideal height and appearance to behave like a cryptid and scare the ever loving shit out of Ryan before I thought, yknow what, fuck it. It's been a long ass time since I've written fic, I have yet to write for this fandom, and I need a creative outlet cause I'm stressed and school is starting soon. Why not? And then this abomination was born. Really, it didn't go how I was originally planning, but it went in a good direction I guess. This is also my first time writing horror and I suck at writing practically any emotion anyways so it might be very technical up until certain points. Sorry. Hope yall enjoy, though. Again, this can be viewed as either platonic or romantic. Either works. I just want some angst and to broaden my horizon a bit, spice up my creative reaches and all that stuff. Again, enjoy/hope you enjoyed.
> 
> PS It's unbeta'd, sorry, I was rushing to get it all out while I could and really, I should be finishing my AP work rn cause I have school in four days.
> 
> ALSO this is loosely based on a horror story I read online a long ass time ago.


End file.
